Before The Goodbye
by xJanzx
Summary: This is the sequel to 'Let Go', where Ronnie says her goodbyes to the people in her life before she leaves Walford
1. Chapter 1

**Before The Goodbye**

Ronnie looked around her empty flat, the room stripped bare of every piece of furniture it once possessed. All in storage now. She walked over to the living room window, her stiletto heels clicking against the laminate floor. Sucking in a shallow breath, she peered out into the darkened night.

The soft orange glow of the street lamps radiated their cold light through the Square. Ronnie watched as one by one, the punters filtered out of the Vic, some making their way to the club, others to their homes – expectant spouses and children no doubt waiting for them. She rested her forehead against the cool pane of glass, closing her eyes and shutting herself off from everything that was going on around her. Building a wall between herself and the lives of others. _Why break a habit of a lifetime?_

"Now or never," Ronnie whispered to herself, eyes still closed and forehead still pressed against the window. "What are you doing, Veronica? You wanted this, so do it." Her body moved of its own accord, walking through to her bedroom and tightly clasping the overnight bag in one hand. Switching off the bedroom light for the last time, she left the place she had once thought of as 'home'. The front door closed shut with a soft click; the quietest of sounds, almost as if she hadn't even done it.

But she had.

Her heels tapped rhythmically against the granite of the pavement, each sound exactly in time with her pounding heartbeat. Why did she feel this sense of dread? She had wanted this. She had wanted a life away from Walford, away from Roxy and Jack and her dad, a clean slate to be whoever she wanted to be without all the baggage that suffocated her. So why did she feel like this?

Abruptly, she stopped; looking up into the fluorescent purple lights of her initial. Hers and her sister's initials. She just shook her head and carried on walking. Before she even knew what she was doing, she had slipped through the back of the red building and stood proudly behind the bar. The bag dropped from her hand as she took a glass and poured a double shot of vodka into it.

The liquid burned its way through to her stomach, dulling her fears and insecurities, making everything seem a little better than what they actually were.

"Glenda not teach you to never drink alone?"

Ronnie felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She'd spent the last week completely avoiding her family only to come face to face with her father on the very night she was leaving. _Oh for crying out loud! Why did you even come to the Vic, why didn't you just keep on walking?_

"Who knows what she could've taught me if she hadn't left."

Archie let a hiss of air escape through his gritted teeth. "And I suppose that's my fault as well, is it?"

Ronnie looked at him, father and daughter on opposite sides of the bar, her blue eyes piercing through his. She didn't bother to reply. "Drink?" She asked, turning away from him and pouring herself another vodka.

Her father eyed her suspiciously. "Why are you here, Veronica? Come to make peace with your sister?"

Ronnie scoffed, before dragging the contents of the glass into her mouth. "Yeah, peace."

"Well, she's just gone up to bed, but I could-"

"Oh no, don't wake the princess, I'll just . . see her in the morning. I'll er . . . see you both in the morning, yeah?" Draining her glass, Ronnie gently set it down on the bar top before scooping low to grasp the handles of her oversized bag.

Her father scrutinized her every move, his eyes taking in every detail. Slowly, his lips lifted in a small smile. "Going somewhere?"


	2. Chapter 2

Ronnie looked at her dad, slightly unnerved by the intensity of his gaze. "No, what makes you think that?" She replied coolly in mock confusion.

Archie looked from his daughter's face to the bag she held in her hands before sighing once again. "Why do you lie to me Veronica? You know you'll just get caught out." Ronnie just rolled her eyes. "I saw the removal van – you thought you'd be so smart doing everything in the dead of night, but you were found out. I found you out."

"Congratulations. What do you want – a medal?"

Archie scoffed, disgusted at his daughter's behaviour. "You were just going to leave, pack up and leave. Without so much as a goodbye, I'm your father – I deserve at least that much!" He ranted.

Ronnie narrowed her eyes at him, a calm anger searing through her veins. "Why do you get to have a 'goodbye' when _I_ didn't?" Her voice was low, even but there was a thread of unadulterated hatred running through every syllable of her words.

Her father fell silent, a wave of Ronnie's deadly fury washing over him. "You just can't help yourself, can you?" He asked, shaking his head in disgust at her.

"What?"

"Always bringing up the past, raking over it like you enjoy hurting the people around you, enjoy being hurt. Roxy was right – you're never happy unless some great injustice has been done to you. No wonder Jack-" Archie suddenly stopped, knowing that he had crossed the line. But he had wanted to do that. He had wanted to provoke her, hurt her even, but now looking as the hot tears lined his daughters eyes, he wished he could take it back.

"No, go on. No wonder Jack what? No wonder he got my little sister pregnant?" Ronnie blinked, trying her hardest to not let the crystal tears fall. Shaking her head, she turned around, ready to walk out of the pub.

"V, wait. Don't go," Archie pleaded.

She stopped in her tracks, her back still facing her father. "Did you see her?" Her voice was barely a whisper, just audible. It was as though every ounce of strength she held within herself was seeping from her, she couldn't even bring herself to turn around and face him as she asked the question.

"See who?" Her father asked, confused by her question and why she would be asking it now.

Ronnie turned around, facing her father once again. "Amy."

Archie genuinely smiled, his thin lips curving upwards slightly. _She misses her niece, I knew she couldn't keep this up for very long. It's okay, V – we can be a family again._ "She's right upstairs if you want to see her, growing every day she is, like a little angel."

The lump in Ronnie's throat grew in size, making it painful for her to breathe. "No," she whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears. "**My** Amy. Did you see her? Before she-. Did you see her? Please. Did you see my daughter?"


	3. Chapter 3

Archie just stared at her, his mind going completely blank and his mouth slightly agape. Had she really just asked him that? His daughter stood in front of him, begging him for answers. Answers he didn't have in him to give.

Because he'd lied.

He scoffed, his mind racing, trying to find another lie to cover up the first one. There were so many excuses and half truths, he couldn't keep up anymore and some . . . some he'd even started believing himself. "There you go again, dragging up the past," he stated, looking away from Ronnie pleading eyes so we wouldn't have to see the agonising heartbreak that almost suffocated her.

"I don't care, I just want to know . . . Did you see her?" Ronnie could feel the hot tears angrily running down her porcelain cheeks. "Did you see my Amy?"

"Veronica, why are you doing this?" Archie sat down on a bar stool, rubbing his temples with the tips of his fingers. He was so tired, so drained now. He wished he could take the lie back, wished he could tell her the truth. But he couldn't, not now – it was too late. She hated him enough already and if he were to tell the truth, Roxy would hate him too. _Funny how something said in anger can destroy so many lives._ His thoughts instantly went back to that fateful night; he'd just wanted to hurt her, hurt her as much as she had hurt him. And he thought it could help her, she would grieve and then move on with her life, maybe even have some more kids . . . but that hadn't happened.

"Why won't you answer me?" Ronnie asked, utterly confused by her father's refusal to give her any answers. "She was your granddaughter-"

"I never even knew the girl!"

"Does that matter? I knew her for two and a half hours and I think about her every day; what she looked like, what her voice sounded like, if she was a giggler," She felt a small laugh bubbling in her throat before gently escaping from her mouth. "You remember what Roxy was like as a baby? Always laughing and giggling at the smallest things-"

"Just like you," Archie interrupted, suddenly seeing his first born daughter as the infant he had cradled in his arms every night for the first five years of her life.

"I keep thinking: was she like that?" Ronnie continued, as if she hadn't heard him. "Was she blonde? Because Joel had dark hair, so was she a brunette too, or blonde like me? And what about her eyes? What colour were they? They were light when she was born, but they change in the first two weeks, don't they? I don't know anything, I don't even know the name she was given. I'm her **mum** and I don't even know her name!" A thought suddenly occurred to her. "Do _you_?"

"What?" Archie asked, his heart breaking beneath his chest for all of the anguish his daughter felt. A pain that he had inflicted, that he was partly responsible for.

"Know her name. There was so much paperwork, a folder in your office – I saw it, there was a folder – you know where she is!" Her eyes narrowed on her father, trying to scrutinise his expression to see if she had hit a nerve.

But Archie just shook his head. "That was just from our side of things, nothing about her-"

"Ronnie?" A voice called out into the darkness as Roxy came through to the bar, her arms forming a small cradle around her sleeping daughter. Roxy looked from her older sister to her father. The atmosphere between them felt charged and electric, as though physical contact between them would cause a horrific lightning storm. "What're you doin' here?"

"Nothing," Ronnie replied, using the back of her hand to wipe away her tears.

Roxy's eyes caught the bag Ronnie held. "Where're you goin'?"

Letting out a deep breath, Ronnie smiled at the tiny baby. "Give her a kiss from me, yeah?" She told her younger sister.

"Ron?" Roxy's voice quavered, something about the exchange worried her, why was Ronnie being so nice now? What was she talking to their dad about? And why had she been crying? "Ronnie? Where are you going?"

"To find my daughter."


	4. Chapter 4

Roxy watched as her older sister retreated from the bar and left the Vic. "Dad?" She asked, her eyes not leaving the space Ronnie had once stood in. "What's goin' on? What's she talking about?" Her questions were met by silence. "Earth to Dad? Dad?!"

"Sorry love?" Archie replied, seeming to snap out of his daze. Inwardly, he sighed heavily, one thought echoing through the recesses of his tired mind – _what have I done?_

"You both been rippin' shreds off each other again? Why? Where's she goin', dad?"

Archie shook his head. "I don't know, love. I don't know."

Meanwhile, outside of the Vic, Ronnie walked purposely through the Square, her feet on autopilot until they finally came to rest inside her own club. _Or is it ex-club now? Knowing Jack the paperwork's already been done._ She let the handles of the bag fall from her hands, her slender fingers digging into her temples in circular motions. Going over to the bar, she pulled a bottle of vodka from the glass cases behind it, before pouring the clear liquid into a shot glass.

As she was raising the tiny glass to her lips, she changed her mind, gently placing it back down onto the bar top. Ronnie looked around herself, the emptiness seemed to engulf her, a feeling that had followed her since the day she had lost her daughter. Ronnie felt a row of tears brim her eyelids, but she forced them to stay there, to not fall. She couldn't break down, not now.

But when would she allow herself to?

Not once had she grieved for her daughter, not even for a second. Instead, she tightly held onto the pain until it became unbearable and then she would bury it. Deeper and deeper, layer upon layer. And that was how she would survive until the next time she saw Roxy's baby, or her father or a little blonde haired angel.

Ronnie nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw, out of the corner of her eye, someone standing behind her. "Danielle! You frightened the life out of me," She exclaimed, gasping slightly as her heart rate regularised.

"Sorry," the blonde haired teenager apologised. "I didn't mean to."

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh, nothing, I erm, I say you come in, you looked like you . . . I should go."

"No, no, I mean – you don't have to, if you don't want to," Ronnie replied quickly, unsure why she suddenly wanted the company of a teenage girl when thirty seconds before she'd wanted to be alone.

Danielle smiled and sat down on the bar stool next to Ronnie. Putting her bag down on the bar, she spoke "Are you okay?"

Ronnie felt the corners of her lips curve into a small smile. "I should be asking you that."

"I'm fine," the teenager lied, smiling again, trying to disguise the torment she'd been inflicting upon herself every minute since she'd taken that second pill. Every time she would look in the mirror, it was as though she didn't recognise herself, didn't know who she had become. Because this wasn't her – Danielle Jones didn't get pregnant and if she did, she sure as hell didn't have an abortion. But she did, didn't she? She got pregnant and she had an abortion. And no amount of hating herself could change that fact.

"I'm fine," she repeated, even as the guilt slowly wound a barbed wire around her heart.


	5. Chapter 5

Ronnie nodded, not believing the teenage girl sat beside her. "But it's okay if you're not, you know? It's okay if you think about . . . them. If you imagine what they'd look like, what she'd sound like, what you would call her. It's okay to think about those things-"

"No, it isn't," Danielle cut her off. Ronnie looked at her, surprised. "It isn't," she repeated, looking into the older woman's eyes. "Maybe it is for you, but me . . . I killed my baby, I have no right to think about those things."

Ronnie just continued to look at her, the guilt and grief written all over her face. "Oh sweetheart," she whispered, reaching out to Danielle and pulling her close to her. She felt her body shudder as Danielle's emotions suddenly came to the fore, the tears flowing freely down her cheeks like a river that had broken its banks. "Shh, shh," Ronnie tried to soothe, hugging her tightly, trying to help in whatever way she could. "You can't blame yourself, darling. It's not your fault. But it'll be okay in time, everything will be okay. We'll make it okay, we'll make it better. It'll be okay," Ronnie stated, over and over again.

The two women stayed in that position for some time, until Danielle's cries had subsided and she was left nearly completely drained of emotion. Ronnie stroked her short blonde hair, so much like Roxy's when she was younger, trying her best to keep Danielle calm.

"I just . . . " Danielle trailed off, now staring at the spirit behind the bar, seeing something that wasn't there. "I did it, didn't I? I did it, nobody made me, I chose, right?" Her voice was monotonous, her eyes glassy, but the torment was evident in every breath she drew. "I did it."

"Yes," Ronnie replied softly, still tightly clutching the young girl's hand.

"How did I get here?" She suddenly asked. "This isn't me, I don't, I don't do these things, I'm . . . "

"Nobody thinks it'll happen to them. You hear about young girls getting pregnant, but you never think it will be you – I didn't."Danielle looked to her at that comment, could see that there was more than Ronnie was saying, so much more to the story. Ronnie looked back at her, giving her a small smile through the tears that had already formed in her crystal blue eyes. "It was one night and I'd just turned fourteen . . ."

"Fourteen?" Danielle asked, obviously shocked by how young she'd been. Ronnie nodded. "But you were just-"

"A child myself? That's what my dad said, what he _kept_ saying, before, during and after." She sucked in a shallow breath, trying to fight the tears that threatened to fall. "At least you know."

"What?"

"That's the worst part – not knowing. You lie awake at night and before you can catch yourself, you think: is she happy? What are her parents like? Do they love her as much as I do-"

"But you said you wished you'd had an abortion! You said you never wanted her, that having her was the biggest mistake of your life!" Danielle exclaimed, wrenching her hand away from beneath Ronnie's. "If you wanted your baby then why did you give her up? And how could you convince me to get rid of mine?!" Danielle shouted, the anger and confusion swirling within her so that she could hardly see straight. She looked at Ronnie, her face reading as though she'd been betrayed by the person she trusted the most, before rushing out of the club.


	6. Chapter 6

Ronnie didn't try to stop her, what was the point? And if it helped ease Danielle's guilt, then she would gladly take the blame, what did it matter anyway – she'd be on a plane within the next day. Letting out a heavy sigh, she got down from the bar stool and picked up the shot glass, ready to pour away it's contents.

She walked through the club, taking the keys from her jacket pocket, intending to leave them on Jack's desk for him to get the following morning. Flicking on the light, Ronnie was met by someone she hadn't expected to see at all that night, in fact the very same person she had been trying to avoid for the last week.

"Jack, what're you doing here?"

"Well, it is my club, Ron," he answered, his signature cheeky smirk already dressing his lips.

"Yeah and it's also nearly morning."

Jack shrugged in reply. "I've never been one to sleep."

"I remember," she said before she could stop herself. They both just smiled at each other for a moment before Ronnie looked away. "Did you, erm, did you . . .?" She indicated with her thumb to where she'd been talking with Danielle. Jack nodded seriously, all traces of cheekiness dissipating. "Right," she breathed before her face crumpled and she could no longer hold in her tears.

"Ron?" Jack questioned, immediately jumping up from his chair and rushing over to her. He enveloped her in his comforting embrace, stroking her hair and rocking her gently.

"I'm sorry," she whispered against the lapels of his suit jacket, still trying to fight her emotions, incessantly trying to replace the missing links in her suit of armour even as it broke away from her.

"You always do that," he whispered into her sunshine locks as his fingers caressed the back of her neck. Jack felt her body stiffen, questioning his statement. "You always apologise for showing how you feel," he pulled away from her slightly so he could look her in eye. "You don't need to do that, y'know? All I've ever wanted was for you to let me in, let me know what was goin' on in that head of yours, what you were feelin'."

Jack inwardly sighed, hating himself for the look of heartbreaking sadness that filled Ronnie's eyes. The truth of the matter was that she'd let him in, she'd told him about her daughter, her Amy and then he'd left her. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, he gently caressed the side of her face, wishing he could take away all of the pain he had inflicted upon her.

"I'm so tired, Jack," Ronnie whispered. "I don't want to fight anymore, I don't have it in me to fight . . ."

"Then don't," he replied.

"I don't know how not to. All my life, it seems like I've been fighting someone. . . Dad, Roxy, Damien . . ." She looked up at him through her charcoal lashes.

"Me?" He stated for her. Nodding, she gave him a small smile.

"You scare me."

"What?" Jack gasped out, an iron like fist grabbing hold of his throat. She was scared of him? What the hell had he done to her?

"You got so close and I couldn't handle that, so I ran and then you . . . and that just gave me the reason to push you away completely. But you kept coming back and every time, you got closer and closer, until . . . Y'know, only a handful of people know about Amy?"

Jack nodded, knowing how much strength it must have taken for her to reveal herself to him in that way. That night was the first time he'd seen her vulnerable, completely and utterly naked – no barriers, no arguing, no smart quips, just her in all her beauty.

"I love you," he said, his voice low and emotive. "And I know I haven't done much to show you that, but I mean it. I love you, Ronnie." Leaning towards her, his forehead touching hers, he repeated those three words. "I love you."

"I know," Ronnie replied, her voice thick with unshed tears. "I know you do." Within a second, their lips softly brushed against each other, all of the anger and heartache falling away as their bodies and hearts became one.

That morning, Jack awoke in his bedroom, a smile instantly spreading across his face as he remembered the events of a few hours ago. He stretched, letting out a content sigh. "Ron?" He called out into the empty flat as he got out of bed. Everything was silent, the flat empty, she wasn't there. And the only thing to signify that she had been and that the whole night hadn't been a fantasy he'd dreamt about was a silver earring with a missing back that must've fallen out. Jack just sat on the edge of his bed, delicately holding it in his hands. This piece of jewellery was all that he had left of the love of his life.

**THE END**


End file.
